The Fabric of Flesh
by FloatingCow
Summary: For a minute, his mind leaves him - traveling somewhere far away. Away from all the pain. Away from this hell. It's quiet, in this place-that-isn't-there. There's no noise, nothing to ignite the trauma he is currently undergoing. It's not peaceful - it's nothing. - For hurtnoctweek day 6 - Noctis sells his body for funds. (warning: human experimentation, gore, vivisection, etc)


The Fabric of Flesh

* * *

"It won't be enough."

Ignis closes his wallet and pushes his glasses further up his nose, "Even if we were to take all the hunts here, we won't be able to make up for all the supplies we lost."

Gladio taps his fingers against the metallic mesh of their table. The umbrella affixed to it casts him and Noctis in shade, leaving Ignis and Prompto to suffer the heat of Lestallum's streets.

"We can take the easy ones first, right? We'll be less likely to use potions and stuff on small fry." He says and waves over the tipster.

The man walks over with menus and Gladio is quick to gesture them away, asking instead to see the local hunts. His eyes scan the list and his lips thin.

Ignis takes the list from him to look over himself, "Almost entirely daemons, and the one that's not involves Killer Wasps. Without any potions or smelling salts, this is too much of a risk to take."

He tosses the list on the table, leaning back and crossing his legs in frustration. Noctis moves forward to pick it up.

"Um, excuse me." A soft voice chimes in from nearby, the group turn to find a small, coppery-haired woman.

"I couldn't help but notice your predicament. You're Prince Noctis, right?"

Noctis glances back at his friends before replying, "Yes?"

She smiles, giving a quick respective dip of her head and extending her hand, "I am a doctor from Insomnia, I used to treat the Kingsglaives after they returned from battle."

"Really?" Noct asks, quickly taking her offered hand.

"Yes sir, my team and I have relocated here after the city fell."

"I'm sorry." Noctis motions.

She quickly shakes her head, "No, it works out alright really. We have been able to treat many of the refugees that come here. And it's lucky that I was able to run into you, see my team leader has been at a standstill with aiding the few Glaives that managed to escape the city as well."

Prompto and Noct shift over, gesturing for her to come join them at the table. She sits with a polite 'thanks' and quickly unruffles her dress shirt.

"There have been...issues with their recovery. The medical leader hopes that by observing someone who still has a connection to magic, we will be able to help the remaining Glaives."

"Hmm," Noctis pauses, "I can't imagine you have found too many people with a connection to magic."

"None, Your Highness. You would be heavily compensated, all we ask is you come in and we perform a few tests."

"Tests?" Noctis quirks an brow.

"Yes, drawing your blood, checking your heart, and maybe take a few skin samples."

Noctis looks back at his friends, checking to see if there were any objections.

"Doesn't sound like it will be any skin off my teeth. How much will I be compensated for?"

"As much as you desire. Please, Prince Noctis, you don't know how much this means to us."

"It sounds like they are buying bits of your body..." Ignis pushes at his glasses.

"If it means I can help a few people out, then I don't mind. I'm glad I can help, specially since these guys are Glaives." Noctis shrugs.

Prompto elbows him with a smarmy grin, "Look at you, selling your body~"

"Quiet, you."

...

"We'll make our incision along the midline."

A buzzing sensation fills Noct's head, his vision an eternal black - all except for a blinding white dot in the distance.

It feels like someone has stuffed cotton in every orifice, reality feels muffled and distant. His memory fails him, the last clear one being lunch in the streets of Lestallum.

His throat burns, and a vague sense of claustrophobia settles into him.

Cold air, with an antiseptic sting, brushes against his bare skin. His shirt has been removed.

There's movement around him, and he tries to squirm away. Breath rapidly increasing, he realizes his arms and legs are locked in place.

"Dr. Sectio, he's waking up." The voice of the woman from earlier rings coldly through his ears - a complete contrast to her reserved warmth from earlier.

Light burns his retinas as a blindfold is suddenly snatched from his face. A single spotlight hangs over his head, leaving the rest of the room dark. The sterile white light nearly drowns out the many forms of the people around him.

They lean over him, dressed head to toe in white scrubs and aprons. Noctis squints up at them, and tries to snarl out at his treatment but the tube down his throat prevents that.

"Ahh, there you are. How nice of you to join us." Noctis regrets agreeing to this as the man's voice rumbles out.

It was a trap.

Fear digs into him, he doesn't remember them putting him to sleep. He can't _remember_ _anything_ past lunch. What were they doing to him?!

"Please, don't give me that look. It was you yourself that agreed to this." Sectio nearly coos.

Noctis tries to thrash, to shout, to tell them he wants out. Be he can't.

He can't move. He can't get any noise past the tube in his mouth. He can't _stop them._

"Don't worry. Dr. Vivus," He gestures to the copper-haired woman with a scalpel, "already told you we are just going to check your heart."

With that, he brings the scalpel down.

Noctis _screams_ , but all that makes it past the tube is a whistle.

The scalpel trails from his chest all the way down to his abdomen, cutting through skin and muscle alike. Red beads up along the incision, and one of the assistants comes along with a cloth to pat it dry.

Horror digs it's icy claws into him, almost as deep as the doctor's blade. Pain ripples through his body - they've given him _nothing_ for it.

Vivus takes her own scalpel, making her own incisions from near his shoulders to the first incision - the cuts coming together to form a "Y".

Tears bubble up and spill over Noct's cheeks, he tries to turn his wide eyes away but even his head seems to be trapped in place.

Close to hyperventilating, he watches as the two doctors reach towards the incision.

Sectio pauses, turning his face towards Noctis - looking everything like a mad doctor with the face mask hiding his expression and light glinting off his glasses.

"Please, don't be so angry. You were paid handsomely for this. We are only doing what we said we would - aid the Glaives. At least, those that _your_ father betrayed." He spits venomously.

And peels the flesh and muscle away from Noct's bones.

When Noctis screams this time, it's wild with agony. His vision swims, the lamp above him seeming to sway and multiply.

A gagging sensation pulls on him - his body demands he vomit, but something prevents it. He clenches and unclenches his hand, desperately trying to summon any weapon - _pleading_ for anything at all to just _come_ to him.

Nothing comes.

His hands are too restricted against his body and the table, not allowing even a simple spell room for purchase.

Vivus smoothes his hair down, shushing him. His eyes wide with horror remain locked on his folded flesh.

She reaches forward and pulls the skin over his sternum up, and Noctis begs unconsciousness to claim him. His muscle scream as they unsuccessfully try to arch his back in pain.

Something glistens in Vivus's hand, Noctis watches as she hands the item to Sectio.

It's a bone saw.

"The fabric of flesh is soft, pliable." Sectio says as he brings the saw down to rest against the white of Noct's rib, "Connective tissue keeps everything from sliding around and making a mess."

He looks Noct dead in the eye, "Bone, however, is not so neat. How does yours compare to those of a real human's?"

Noctis can't think about his comment before blinding agony is ripping through him - the doctor is _sawing through_ his ribs.

For a minute, his mind leaves him - traveling somewhere far away. Away from all the pain. Away from this _hell._

It's quiet, in this place-that-isn't-there. There's no noise, nothing to ignite the trauma he is currently undergoing.

It's not _peaceful -_ it's _nothing._

It crashes around him in and instant and he is brought back to them screwing around with his insides. They've pulled his ribs back as if they were doors on a wardrobe.

He's entranced, wide eyes locked onto his exposed heart.

Sectio pulls the tube from his throat roughly, removing his mask to stare down at him in pure hate.

"Scream, Noctis."

And Noctis does.

Every nerve is alight in agony, he can't catch his breath and he can't stop the _suffering_.

He's suffocating, drowning. The tube had come all the way from his _lungs_ , was he supposed to breathe without it? He thrashes and pulls against the restraints until they bite into him.

The assistants stand back, pulling their hands away from where they had been scraping off tissue.

"The magic is restoring him at a minutely increased rate," Vivus leans over to Sectio, "his emotions seem to trigger it - even if only slightly."

Splayed out like this on the table, Noctis wishes he were _dead._ Or at least able to wring his hands around the necks of everyone of these _bastards._

His eye roll around, delirium pulling away his rational thought. The world swirls and tilts as he tries to escape into his own mind. He envisions himself escaping and _killing_ these doctors - and the thought scares him. He has never been one for such hatred - never been one to outright wish _death_ on anyone.

He can feel magic, trying to work its way through his body in an attempt to heal his open chest cavity. The two doctors lean forward, Sectio pointing to a spot beneath his heart.

They pay no mind when the lamp flickers briefly.

"We had theorized the core to be here, directly under the heart." he addresses Vivus, "Either we were wrong, or the core is invisible."

"Would it be invisible to those who use magic? I could call one of the Glaives here to check." She supplies.

Sectio pauses, taking his chin in his hand and meeting Noct's blown eyes. His tears flow freely, blurring the figure of the mad doctor. Spittle slides down his cheek as he grits his teeth in pain and anger.

"Go ahead." Sectio sighs, "If they still can't see it, we will try the second theorized location."

"We will have to hide his face," Vivus stands in front of Sectio, forcing him to focus on her, "The neurosurgery team will not stand for this."

Neurosurgery?

Noctis grits his teeth, ignoring how they grind, and starts violently thrashing again. Every move brings him pain, but it doesn't matter -

They wanted to open up his _brain._ Noctis cries out, loud despite his torn throat, loud because he can only feel rage and agony.

Magic swells up in his limbs, and his fingers tingle as it begs to be used - to do anything but sit there and take it.

"Don't worry, little Lucii." Sectio leans over him, pulling his face mask back on, "We'll put you under for this one - even if it prevents us from seeing how your core reacts to different stimuli."

Noctis screams, and raw magic boils out of him in a violent shock-wave - rattling the walls and nearly blowing out any nearby lights.

It settles down quickly enough, and Sectio turns to face his shaken assistants.

"No worries, it was only the death cry of a weakened animal."

Noctis wishes it weren't true, but he feels himself slipping. Spent of all energy.

Sobs shake him, all rage of how helpless he was draining entirely.

Gunshots ring out from down the hall.

His eyes fly open. The doctors are suddenly discussing among themselves, panic lacing their voices.

They start filing out of the room, and the gunshots suddenly sound much closer. Noctis renews his struggle.

He can hear them shouting, Sectio remains by him and Vivus goes out to check.

She peaks her head out to check, turning and nodding to Sectio. He turns to start grabbing supplies.

Vivus starts to cry out, but the sound is cut off in an instant.

A knife - _Ignis's_ \- buries itself up to the hilt in the center of Sectio's back.

Noctis can barely make out the door, Ignis standing there with his arm extended. Gladio, hot on his heels, comes around the corner, tossing a hand over his mouth and nearly keeling over at the site of Noct. Prompto tries to come in, but a single glance at his friend leaves him unable to keep his own lunch down, and Gladio quickly turns to pull both of them out of the room at Ignis's insistence.

Noctis could cry out in relief if he wasn't in so much pain.

Ignis looks at him, thinly veiled horror in his eyes at the sight of Noct opened up like this. He tosses a hand over his mouth and stumbles a step closer to the table - to Noct.

Noctis clenches his eyes, shame adding to everything else he was feeling. He hates being so helpless, so exposed in front of his oldest friend.

He doesn't want to be seen suffering like this.

"Noctis," Ignis gasps out, "are you with me?"

He refuses to open his eyes, but answers Ignis nonetheless.

A whine is all he can manage, but Ignis seems to understand.

He works his way around Sectio'says body, grabbing some gloves from a box by the sink.

"Please, please - forgive me for what I'm about to do." There are tears in his eyes when Noct's own pained ones meet them.

Ignis puts on the gloves and approaches, every step increasing Noct's heartbeat. He hesitates over Noctis for a second, shaking hands hovering a hair's breadth from Noct.

A scream rips from Noctis as Ignis closes him up, quickly reaching for an elixir and cracking it over him.

Noctis contorts in agony as the elixir finishes sealing him up, and he curls in on himself the instant Ignis releases the restraints.

A phantom feeling of still being exposed has him clawing at his skin in an attempt to keep it closed. His hands are grabbed and he yanks away, rolling off the edge of the table.

Ignis hurries to the other side, watching as Noctis writhes in pain.

The elixir had sealed him, but the damage was done.

"Noctis..." He calls with as much gentleness as possible, his voice waivers and his grimace is watery.

Breaths coming out in heaves - enough to push and pull at his hair from where he rests, forehead to the floor - Noctis remains unresponsive.

Ignis rests a quivering hand on Noct's back, hating the way Noctis cringes away from it. Regardless, he presses closer and pulls Noct into a better position - breaking an extra potion over the wound for good measure.

"Ignis, they-" Ignis pulls Noct close to him, cutting him off as the other's face embeds itself into his chest.

"Don't say it. You're safe now." Rage contorts his voice, but he forces himself to calm while he clinges Noctis.

It's the last time they will ever be that close again.

...

Noctis feels guilty, every time he is touched he shies or flinches away. Ignis knows this.

After they had found him and he had recovered, things had almost gone back to normal. Noctis would act the same - after the initial trauma at least - his personality had seemed to have suffered none if you didn't know where to look.

A friendly slap on the back, an arm around the shoulder, even a simple brush against him, would have him cringing as if it brought him pain.

Things had still become irreversibly different for them as a group.

But it gets better with time, as most things do.

Prompto can lean into him, only eliciting a near invisible flinch. Gladio can help him to his feet if he doesn't let his hand linger.

Ignis watches all of this, watches Noct recover - if even only slightly - until he can't.

They are leaning against each other - barely touching and Noctis is impossibly tense - in the cramped bunks of the Keep, Ignis blind and Noctis worn from the horrors of the world, when Ignis wonders if Noctis will ever let himself be touched without feeling pain.

It's no way to live, and Ignis mourns for him.

It's only hours later that Ignis mourns for him in a new way - Noctis has been taken from them.

And he doesn't return for ten _years._

He can't see what he looks like now, but he reaches out to grasp at Noct's shoulder after their last campfire together - hoping against all hope that Noctis won't shy away.

Noctis _doesn't_ , and Ignis finds his hand firmly resting in the place he wanted. He almost wants to gasp out.

Then Noctis _relaxes_ under Ignis's touch.

Ignis bites back a sob, he wants to _rage_ against this world - against the Astrals and against the people who had hurt Noct in the first place.

How cruel the world was - for Noct to only trust again as it was ending.

* * *

 **Thank you very much for reading!**

 **Please let me know your comments/concrits!**

 **First of all, I'd like to apologize for this. My only knowledge of vivisection is from my own dissection experience for class with a fetal pig(sorry about that too T.T). I know there are issues with the accuracy, but I did my best with what I had.**

 **My writing also became horrible midway through - my computer is on its last leg, taking 4(four!) hours to turn on - for it to only shut off by itself if I try to go to a site or save something it doesn't approve. Therefore, I had to write text-message style for a good portion of the fic and I wasn't able express everything I wanted neatly.**

 **So I am really disappointed with how this turned out. I'm sorry for all you guys who read this too, it's not as quality as it could have been.**

 **But my next hurt!noct entry will be much better in my opinion. It's only ~600 words, but it is my favorite of what I've written for this week. Even among some of my other fics, I think I really like this one.**

 **Thank you again so much for reading!**


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